


Surf Skills

by iiArgentum



Category: Sherlock (TV)
Genre: First story, Fluff, Gay, Johnlock - Freeform, M/M, Multi, SURF AU, Teen Romance, beach!lock, surfer!lock
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2019-07-01
Updated: 2019-07-17
Packaged: 2020-06-02 03:14:13
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 2
Words: 2,314
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/19432777
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/iiArgentum/pseuds/iiArgentum
Summary: John Watson is just a twenty-something guy who's life has been dedicated to surfing. Sherlock Holmes is a young man just starting his career as a detective. When he comes down to Cali to learn how to surf (for a case) he ends up getting hooked on both the beach revolving lifestyle and the cute surfer who has befriended him.





	1. First Day

**Author's Note:**

> This is my first story on this website, so I apologize in advance for any mishaps.

Sherlock stared at the small closet of his motel room. This was simply degrading. He had never expected to go to such an extent for a case, and that was saying a lot coming from him. Here the young man was, having flown halfway across the world to a small town in California simply because it was known for its exceptional surfers and competitions. But I suppose that was expected from Sherlock Holmes- it was only his second case after being granted permission from the New Scotland Yard to investigate crime scenes, and he may have gone a bit overboard in how much of himself he invested into each of his cases. Such was an example of this.

He sighed and opted for what he had gathered as the most common type of outfit. A gray tank top and a pair of forest green swimming trunks with a tiny gray spade pattern on it.

He pulled out a bottle of sunscreen, dreading the fact that he would have to practically bathe himself in this substance to prevent his pale, porcelain-like skin from burning. This American sun and heat were already getting on his nerves. Once he finished using it, he threw it on his bed and grabbed his backpack, ready to leave.

But then he checked his watch, noticing it was only 3:02 PM. He huffed out a sigh. He would have to find a way to entertain himself until he actually had his scheduled lesson.

He decided that he might as well go down to the beach early, there couldn't be any harm in scoping out the environment beforehand. He stepped out of the motel room and set off on the short walk it would take to reach the beach.

Sherlock dawdled, so he ended up getting there at four. The sun didn't seem too intent on setting anytime soon, which could be proven from the large number of people still shredding waves or whatever they called it, Sherlock had yet to research and educate himself on the local surfer slang.

He had taken off his flip flops and was watching some of the more advanced surfers do tricks atop the large waves when a large object hit his back and caused him to fall forward into the sand. He rolled over and reluctantly grabbed the calloused hand that was offered to him. He quickly scrambled up to get mad at the idiot that had inconvenienced him, but that plan quickly went awry when he was met with a pair of stunning green and blue eyes as he was pulled up.

"So sorry about that, you alright man?"

Sherlock simply stared into those eyes. He did a once-over of the person to whom they belonged. The guy was short and looked in his twenties, and he had a tan that, Sherlock had to admit, looked nice on his muscular figure. That paired with his short, tousled blonde hair and eyes, and Sherlock was reminded of why he was gay.

"Uh, hello?" The guy waved a hand in front of Sherlock's face. He snapped back into reality, realizing now was the appropriate time to confirm this beautiful stranger that he was indeed seeing him and not dreaming.

"What's up with that guy?" Another man said, leaning over John's shoulder to peer at Sherlock. This guy had dyed silver hair, a rough voice, and a similar build to the guy in front of him's except a bit pudgier. It was this guy's face that properly brought him back to his body.

"Uh- yes, yes, I'm fine. Thanks, er-" Sherlock sighed in frustration, he had never had this problem; stumbling over his words.

But the man simply laughed and shook out his hand. "John," He introduced himself. Watson," He added.

Sherlock took it and shook it, "Sherlock Holmes."

"That's quite a mouthful, huh?"

"Well, compared to John Watson, I'm sure it seems so," Sherlock chuckled.

"You British?" John looked at him curiously.

Sherlock nodded. "We don't get many Brits 'round here," He grinned, adjusting the surfboard he had tucked under his arm. "Well, I suppose I'll see you catching waves?"

"Ah, no, I don't surf."

John stared at him and tilted his head. "What do you mean you don't surf?"

"That's why I came here, actually, to learn."

The guy with silver hair who had been leaning an elbow on John's shoulder and watching the other surfers spoke up, "You didn't book lessons from a guy named Tony, did ya?" His knowing smile made Sherlock starting to rethink the possible outcomes of using an unreliable company.

"Yes, why?"

The guy snickered while John shook his head sadly. "It's a scam, dude. Place doesn't exist. And I'm guessing you already paid, too, huh?"

"Yes, I did," Sherlock replied stiffly.

"Sorry 'bout that. Gotta run. Cya tomorrow, John?" He asked, patting John on the back.

"Yea, cya Greg," John replied, waving him off. That left just him and Sherlock awkwardly facing each other in silence. Sherlock was about to make his goodbyes so he could go figure out what to do next when John started again.

"I could teach you."

Sherlock nearly snorted. "What?"

"What, you think I'm just some amateur who surfs in their free time?"

"Yes."

"Would you like me to prove you wrong?" John grinned, raising an eyebrow.

"I'd be surprised if you could stand on your board without falling off at this point," Sherlock smirked.

"Challenge accepted."

Sherlock crossed his arms and watch John run into the water.

He watched in amazement as John did a number of tricks on his surfboard that he couldn't explain. At one point he was at the top of a wave just about to fold over and tipped his board so that the board was jutting straight up and down and did a handstand while gripping onto the top of it. Sherlock thought he had wiped out but he appeared from under the crest of a wave and Sherlock could see his triumphant grin from the shore.

He ended back on shore and jogged up to Sherlock. "Was that good enough for ya, Sherlock?"

Sherlock ripped his eyes away from watching water dripping down John's chest. "I suppose so," He smirked.

"Then be here tomorrow at 6 AM," John winked and walked off.


	2. Off Course

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The boys get a bit... sidetracked, shall we say.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> The support I got just from the first chapter was amazing, especially since this is my first story on here. Thank you, hope I do this story justice.

The next morning, Sherlock had no trouble waking up at the crack of dawn that next day. Surprisingly, the young detective found himself looking forward to his "lessons" with the newly met surfer who had been so kind to him.

He arrived at the beach just as the sun was starting to peek over the horizon. He paused and closed his eyes, and felt something strange happen to him. His normally constantly frantic and buzzing mind calmed down. And the man couldn't but let a whisper of a smile appeared on his lips as he stood there in unexplainable bliss.

Sherlock could just picture his older brother's dismay at finding out he was already starting to grow attached to this peaceful little town. After all, it was bound to become a problem, considering the man was to only spend a week in it. But that thought was pushed to the back of his head as he had other things to focus on, after all.

He finally opened his eyelids, and Greg's very recognizable silver hair glinting in the sunlight immediately caught his eye. He trudged through the sand and approached the group of people he was talking to, which included John. John met his gaze and flashed him a dazzling smile.

"Guys, this is Sherlock. I told him I'd teach him how to surf after Tony scammed him." John interrupted, introducing him to his friends. Sherlock automatically scanned and made deductions about the two girls and two guys smiling at him. "This is Molly," John said, nodding towards a small and shy girl (who had never been in a successful relationship). "Mike." A squat guy grinned at him (pre-diabetic). "You already met Greg yesterday, and Irene." Sherlock couldn't help but notice a bit of detest in John's voice as he introduced a woman, who despite his preferences, he had to admit was what could be considered "beautiful"... He analyzed her routinely. Yet, for some reason- he couldn't. He narrowed his eyes at that, oblivious to the suggestive smirk she was giving him. John seemed to notice, and he cleared his throat. "So, uh, let's get to it." He cut through to Sherlock. He paused, standing in front of him. Sherlock felt the tips of his ears go red as John seemed to look him over. "Let's start with a board, huh?" He breathed. Who knew surfing could be so sexy.

Sherlock's lips tugged into a smirk and he followed John to a rickety building labeled "Leo's Surf Shack". Along the side were an array of surfboards in traditional wooden carvings, colors, and different sizes. They walked up the steps to a counter. John knocked on the wood. "Leo?" He called out. A guy with a mess of curly black hair popped into view.

"Heyo John."

"Hey. Listen, I need a board for my friend here." Friend.

The man behind the counter's hazel eyes flickered over him. "Try the ones in the back."

"Thanks."

After an unnecessarily long time deciding, Sherlock was awkwardly hugging a tall gray surfboard decorating with a swirling purple pattern. "Half of those boards looked like they would sink the second they touched the water, and I'm not taking any chances, John," Sherlock reasoned.

"Right," John replied, giving him an amused look. The two trudged over to the water. "You know how to swim, right?"

Sherlock snorted. "Why would I be learning how to surf if I couldn't even stay afloat?"

"I dunno..." John mumbled, keeping his gaze on the water.

One look at John's face told him everything he needed to know. "You did, didn't you?" Sherlock couldn't help but let out a slight chuckle.

"Shut up, I was only five." John protested, laughing a bit too.

"You started learning how to surf at five?" Sherlock asked quizzically. That seemed awfully young for a child to balance on a thin surface and battle nature's waters. But then again, he had memorized the periodic table at age five.

"Yea. If you come from a surfing family, they put ya on a board as soon as you can stand," John answered. "How else do you think I'm so good," He smirked, raising an eyebrow.

Sherlock was stuck on the first statement. He sensed had been remorse in his tone. That implied complications at home from the looks of it. Split parents? Abusive father perhaps? Hm, he'd have to find out.

The two were now at the shore. John placed his board on the water and kneeled onto it with Sherlock mimicking him. He wobbled a bit and had to stick out his hands to keep from falling off. John laughed. "Guess we'll have to work on your balance." John leaned down on his board and started to paddle. Sherlock tried focusing on his own board and not the way John's muscles rippled with each motion.

"So what first?" He asked once they had made it out fairly far from the shore, already slightly bored.

"Ah, I think you'd better practice just standing on the board and not letting the waters current get to you."

"Really?" Sherlock glared. He was slightly offended. He stood up on the board. "I think we can skip tha-" A wave flushed under his board, knocking him off and into the icy water below. Falling in front of John a second time. And in front of someone he actually was trying to impress, of course. Sherlock swam to the surface and clambered back onto the board, dripping wet and curly hair plastered to his head and obscuring his eyesight. John watched him cross-legged with his elbows on his knees propping his chin looking quite amused.

"You were saying, smart ass?"

Sherlock sighed in frustration and stood up once more.

John snickered. "Looks like you've got a mop on your head."

Sherlock seemingly gave up and sat down in his board too, huffing in exasperation. He cocked an eyebrow to see John still staring at him, and his eyebrows went even higher when the man's hand reached out to brush the wet curls out of his eyes. "Alright, I'm going to cut right to the chase."

Sherlock's heart sped up. Wasn't this when the two protagonists would proclaim their love for each other and make out? Is that what was going to happen? Or was it just wishful, thinking, John probably wasn't gay. But as much as he hated those classic romance movie tropes, he wouldn't mind making out with Jo-

"Are you still there?" John asked, searching Sherlock's eyes.

Damn it.

"Go on," He rumbled.

"I like you. And I'd like it even more if I could get to know you more. Know what I mean?"

"Yes, and I would indeed like that, also."

"Great... I doubt you're staying in America for that long?"

Sherlock had forgotten about that. He had four more days until he had a trip back to London. This was supposed to be for a case, he couldn't just leave a serial killer loose in the streets if he could do something about that! Speaking of which, how had he gone an entire day without thinking about that case? What in the actual fu-

"Let's just focus on now, shall we?" Sherlock responded.

John grinned and nodded. "Can I kiss you?"

"Hm, I think I'd be offended if you didn't, at this point."

Sherlock silently snickered as John awkwardly scooted closer on his board and tilted Sherlock's face with a finger under his chin. But all thoughts were erased when John's lips were slowly planted on his and Sherlock's body started buzzed in anticipation.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> The day is split into two pieces, so the continuation is to follow soon!


End file.
